


Priority #1

by themillersson



Category: Glee
Genre: Creepy, No Sex, Power Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themillersson/pseuds/themillersson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will hears about Artie's advice to Blaine during West Side Story and decides he needs to make sure that Kurt's okay. (Spoilers up through The First Time, possibly for Mash Off.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priority #1

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to ellydash for helping with this! Takes place sometime around Mash Off, though the title is stolen from the Pilot (or Goodbye).

Will had never been more thankful for his own reserves of patience. The students had grumbled more than usual about having to give up their Saturday afternoon for Booty Camp, and he’d had to remind each of them at least once how important it was to be their best. Maybe they hadn’t committed enough the year before, but this was his last year with some of them and he was determined to send them off with a moment of glory to cap off their high school experience.  
  
For once, Kurt didn’t complain as much as the others, but Will had seen him sending exasperated looks to Puck every time Will called him out on an unwarranted shimmy. Will bit his tongue rather than mention it, though; he didn’t want to start the meeting they needed to have afterward off on a sour note.  
  
When the practice was finally over and most of the group had packed their things and drifted out, Will busied himself with gathering any odds and ends left behind and waited for Kurt to finish saying goodbye to Rachel. He was alerted to the fact that they were alone when Kurt’s dry voice came from right behind him.  
  
“She’s been dressing better this year. It’s on your head if she backslides because I had to miss this shopping trip and Mercedes couldn’t corral her alone.”  
  
Will shook his head and held back a smile. “I’m grateful you stayed anyway, then,” he said. He grabbed the last forgotten water bottle from on top of the piano and started for the door, getting them back on track with, “I want to talk to you in my office.”  
  
Kurt followed him with no more comment than a nod of acknowledgment, and they walked through the empty hallways in silence. The echoing footsteps reinforced the fact that they had the building to themselves and Will couldn’t help glancing over at Kurt. He’d grown so much in the last few years – Will vividly remembered the guarded, round-faced boy who’d been one of the club’s first members, and even if some things hadn’t changed as Will had expected (like his voice, Will half-guiltily acknowledged, and the occasional moments of attitude), he was standing with genuine confidence these days and seemed much less likely to rip into people over imagined slights.  
  
“So,” Kurt said as Will held the door of his office open for him, “why did you ask me to stay late? Aside from the offer of a solo performance, which seems woefully unlikely, I can think of at least five ongoing issues you might want to discuss. And we could talk about at least two of those during Dad’s campaign meetings.”  
  
Will chuckled and let Kurt settle into the chair in front of his desk while he shut the door, but he rested his weight on the edge of the desk rather than sitting at his own chair, not wanting to make things too formal. “This isn’t about the campaign, Kurt.”  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow expectantly.  
  
Will opened his mouth, then closed it again, suddenly less comfortable in the quiet than he had been. He thought for a moment. He’d tried to plan out a speech the night before, but nothing had struck the right tone, so he’d assumed that he’d do better ‘winging it’ when the time came. Unfortunately, the sense of awkwardness from before was settling in, instead. The potential consequences and the words ‘your glee club saved my kid’s life’ floated into his head once again, though, and he made himself push through the embarrassment. “You know that I care about you as one of my students. And, well, your dad – I owe it to him to look out for you.”  
  
Kurt’s expression was quickly sliding past ‘quizzical’ and into ‘concerned.’  
  
“Look, Kurt-” Will broke off. He was ashamed of himself for leaving the issue for so long; his hesitance could have already had permanent consequences. “Emma told me about something Artie suggested while he was directing West Side Story. He was talking to Rachel… and to Blaine.” Will took a breath and made himself look steadily at Kurt, who was already crossing his legs, looking uncomfortable. Will hoped that he was wrong about one of the possible reasons for that discomfort – what if he was too late? “He told them that they might perform better if they became… intimate with their respective partners.” He kept watching Kurt’s face.  
  
Sure enough, Kurt’s eyes widened and he made as if to get up. “Mr. Schue,” he said quickly, “it’s kind of you to tell me about that, but I’m going to leave now.”  
  
Will shook his head and stood up before Kurt could, reaching a hand out to rest on his shoulder and keep him sitting. “I know you two care about each other, but you’re both young and that can make people impulsive. I need to know, has he been pressuring you at all?”  
  
Kurt was staring up at him, momentarily speechless.  
  
Will squeezed his shoulder and tried not to let his own anxiety show. Blaine seemed like a nice kid and Will honestly liked him, but Will remembered being a teenager. Sometimes hormones could overwhelm even the nicest kid’s sense of right and wrong, and even if Kurt was assertive and strong-willed enough for two people, Will had seen him and Blaine dancing side by side – Blaine might be the shortest guy in glee, but he looked like he could have more muscle than Kurt. Will bit his lip as he remembered vividly how easy bully after bully had found it to manhandle Kurt, regardless. Physical resistance didn’t seem to be something that came easily to Kurt, for whatever reason. It wouldn’t take any actual _intent_ to hurt, but if Blaine had Artie’s suggestion in mind – which it would be, obviously, _Will_ could barely stop thinking about it since he heard it – and he had just one lapse in judgment…  
  
But Kurt was shaking his head. “No. Blaine and I are fine. More than fine. He wouldn’t-”  
  
Will cut him off with another comforting squeeze to his shoulder, solid and warm under his hand. “I need you to be honest with me. None of this will go beyond this room. I just want to know that no one is making you uncomfortable,” he said, fixing Kurt with an earnest look and reluctantly leaving off the ‘or worse’ he wanted to add.  
  
“I appreciate your misplaced concern,” Kurt said, with an edge of that sharp tone Will hadn’t heard directed at him in a while, “but I’m doing fine. There’s CW-level drama in every _other_ realm of my life right now, but not that one.”  
  
Will had to wonder if Kurt was leaving something out; it would hardly be the first time Kurt downplayed something that was putting him at risk. There was a certain breeziness to the last statement, in addition, that Will was beginning to recognize as a sign Kurt was lying, but when he started to ask, “Are you-” Kurt cut him off sharply.  
  
“On that note, why did you ask me to discuss this and not Finn? Rachel got the same advice as Blaine. And Finn is my Dad’s son, too, so _that_ can’t be your excuse.”  
  
Will furrowed his brow against the accusation in Kurt’s look. He’d thought they were past that sort of antagonism. “Kurt, you know why.”  
  
Kurt was looking hard at him, now, the muscles of his shoulder tensing under Will’s hand. His jaw clenched. “That isn’t true. I can’t know for sure until you say it. Is it something specific to Blaine?” he asked.  
  
“Of course not,” Will said, surprised. “I didn’t mean to imply anything about him. Well, nothing other than him being a normal teenage boy, but that’s not about him. He’s very polite, very talented – I’m glad he’s in the club.”  
  
“Then it’s me, isn’t it?” Kurt jerked his shoulder abruptly enough that Will couldn’t keep his hand in contact anymore. His voice was colder than usual and would have been level except for the hard edge of bitterness. “Why? Finn doesn’t have to worry about being pressured by Rachel, apparently.”  
  
Will frowned. “That’s a completely different situation,” he defended, as reasonably as he could, even though Kurt was glaring even harder.  
  
“Because, what, Finn’s a guy and Rachel-” Kurt broke off. His mouth dropped open for just a second, lips going slack before pressing back together in a thin line. “Never mind,” he huffed. “Of course. I should have guessed. You think I’m _delicate_ , don’t you?” Will wanted to say something to cut off what looked like it could turn into a tirade, but Kurt was shaking his head and saying, “Finn can handle himself, obviously, but I’m just enough of a ‘Lady’ that you think I’ll be taken advantage of by my boyfriend – my _shorter_ boyfriend, mind you.”  
  
  
Will’s hand still hovered in the air over Kurt’s shoulder. He was taken aback by the vehemence of Kurt’s reaction – he had expected some insult over the possible slight to Blaine, but it wasn’t as if Will was being unreasonable about it, and it was true what he’d said, that it wasn’t about Blaine.  
  
The thing was, even if Kurt wasn’t exactly ‘delicate,’ if Will had to bet on any of his male students getting into, well, trouble, it was easy – painfully, unnervingly easy – to picture it happening to him. After all, Will had years of seeing things out of the corner of his eye, catching glimpses of bigger guys, the size of full-grown men, surrounding Kurt in a huddle or colliding with him in the hallway, using their strength against him, shoving him against things – there was nothing Will could do anything about as a teacher, sadly. McKinley’s rules held him back from punishing them without concrete proof, and all he had were split-second impressions, burned into his brain, of a flash of fear in Kurt’s eyes as a boy – man, really – loomed over him. And now with this new dimension added…  
  
“Kurt,” he tried again, trying to shake off the persistent mental image of a vague male figure pinning Kurt down while he tried to squirm away, “I never said that. Why would you think I would call you that?”  
  
Kurt gave a tight, one-shouldered shrug. “You’re not the only one who hears what people say, Mr. Schue.”  
  
Will sighed and re-settled his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, craving the contact again despite the pointed look Kurt sent at it. “I just don’t want you to find yourself in a situation like last year,” he explained as patiently as he could, pushing away the picture that kept presenting itself, of Kurt gasping and teary and terrified instead of just indignant. “I should have told you about that suggestion as soon as Emma told me, and now I’m worried that I waited too long.” Kurt looked like he was going to say something, but Will shook his head. “I know you and Blaine care about each other. But, well…”  
  
He hesitated. The next part was going to be awkward, but he didn’t want to make it look like he thought there was anything unusual about Blaine, because there really wasn’t – Blaine was perfectly normal. Besides, if he needed Kurt to understand the situation, a personal anecdote might help. “Being in a relationship and… _frustrated_ can be difficult, Kurt,” he admitted. “No matter how good someone’s intentions are and no matter how much they care about their partner, that tension can take a toll on things. It’s not so bad when you’re alone, but when you spend time with someone nearby and you’re attracted to them but can’t exactly, well, express that…”  
  
Kurt was looking perturbed again.  
  
Will had to get the point across, though. Kurt had to know that Will wouldn’t judge him, not if he let Will help. Will did regret not saying anything sooner, but too much had been going on, first all the issues with the Troubletones and his students defecting, then, just as he’d decided to talk to Kurt about it, Sue’s attack ads had happened and Will had needed to go into full damage control mode. All along, though, Will had worried, stuck on the thought. What if he was too late? He liked Blaine, he really did – he almost reminded Will of himself, in some ways – but it was all too easy to picture Blaine, charming and smooth-tongued, persuading Kurt that they needed to… consummate their relationship, once his normal teenage hormones were given that extra push by Artie’s advice. Will assumed that Kurt would say ‘no’ at first, given the contradictory air of innocence he had in spite of his fondness for very – sometimes indecently – tight pants. But if Blaine started pushing – maybe just letting his hands wander more aggressively while they made out on a couch or ‘accidentally’ tripping, fumbling into an intimate position that left Kurt pinned and helpless…  
  
Will hadn’t realized that his agitation over the scenario was making him grip Kurt’s shoulder harder, but he loosened his grip when Kurt sucked in a sharp breath and tried to edge away.  
  
“My point is,” Will persisted, “that kind of commitment with a partner is beautiful, but it can be very hard to maintain. It’s not so bad for me as an adult, especially since I had to practice it after the divorce,” he laughed awkwardly, but Kurt didn’t join in, so he hurried to continue, “but the constant waiting can put people on edge. Some guys could even screw up and think a partner’s hesitance means they’re being rejected.” He took a breath. “And with all those things hanging over someone’s head, if he’s given that one last push…”  
  
Will grimaced and looked down at Kurt’s stricken expression. He didn’t want to panic him, but he wanted Kurt to look out for himself, or at least allow other people to do it for him. And it was better to see Kurt looking vaguely ill now than to see him surprised and hurt by someone he trusted.  
  
In the past few weeks since learning about the advice Blaine had gotten, Will had thought it through and realized sadly that Kurt would be hurt almost beyond repair if that kind of betrayal did happen – worse than when he’d been chased away by bullying, maybe even worse than when his father was in the hospital. And, God, what it would mean if someone did that to Kurt, if they left their brand on him like that for the rest of his life… Will swallowed hard. He wished he’d called Kurt in sooner.  
  
Will was so caught in his racing thoughts that he almost missed it when Kurt spoke up. “Mr. Schue…” He was leaning back a little in his chair, and Will automatically shifted to maintain their close distance. There was an odd edge to Kurt’s voice when he slowly said, “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”  
  
Will sighed. “All I’m saying is that I want you to be careful,” he explained, rubbing his thumb in a compassionate way along where he could feel Kurt’s collarbone through the – typically impractical – workout shirt.  
  
Kurt stiffened, probably at the warning, despite the soothing strokes.  
  
“It’s not that I don’t trust Blaine,” Will hastened to assure him once again. “I’m glad you found him. I just…” he trailed off and grimaced. It was just so _easy_ for one potential scenario after another to slip to the forefront of his mind, each one increasingly vivid – after telling Blaine ‘not yet’ one too many times, Kurt being forced to his knees, hair mussed and eyes welling with tears of humiliation, or being pushed down on his back, maybe spread across a desk and pinned there. Will knew he was doing the right thing, awkward as the conversation might be.  
  
“Mr. Schue,” Kurt started sharply, his breath shallow and his heartbeat speeding enough that Will could feel the change in the beats under his hand. “Why is it that when you hear about my boyfriend getting unsolicited advice about our level of… intimacy, your first thought is that Blaine would” flushing, he struggled for the words for a moment, “force himself on me?”  
  
Will frowned and opened his mouth to repeat what he’d been saying all along, that it had nothing to do with Will’s trust or fondness for Blaine. Kurt cut him off before he could even start.  
  
“I believe that it’s not about him,” Kurt sighed, an edge of tight tension creeping into his voice again. “What I want to know is,” his muscles were stiffening under Will’s palm until he could practically feel them vibrating “what did I do – or is there just something _about_ me – that makes you think I would be – that someone would… _do_ that?”  
  
Will almost couldn’t bring himself to look at the upset on Kurt’s face. “Kurt, it’s not,” he started to say, but he was cut off.  
  
“It’s not _what?_ ” Kurt almost hissed, and Will had to fight back a surge of annoyance at being stopped from explaining exactly that. “It’s not, what, that you think I can’t defend myself? Or that you still think of me as some – some passive victim, or just fair game to anyone?” He was outright glaring at Will now, and Will found himself gripping his shoulder even tighter, in case he tried to storm out. “Or is it ‘not’ that you think I’d never _want_ that with my boyfriend – who I love, and who loves me even if he does make mistakes sometimes?” His voice dropped to something almost sullen, and he added, “You keep warning me about how my boyfriend is a teenage boy – I am too, even though you’ve apparently forgotten.”  
  
His shock having given way after the first few seconds, Will’s jaw had been clenching tighter throughout Kurt’s little rant. “Kurt,” he snapped. “You’re out of line.”  
  
Kurt shifted his shoulder abruptly, as if trying to throw Will’s hand off, but Will tightened his grip and pushed down until Kurt winced a little and stilled. Apparently, he’d learned his lesson, because he stayed obediently in place even as he hissed back, “Why, because I suggested I might _not_ get attacked like that, or because I admitted to being capable of _wanting_ sex?”  
  
“Kurt!” Will exclaimed, shocked, though not enough to cool the burn of irritation at the way Kurt had gone off at him. He didn’t like the thought of Kurt throwing himself around, but it was unlikely enough that he passed over that part in favor of concentrating on the rest of it for now. “I’m your teacher, it’s my _job_ to be concerned for your safety,” he said firmly, forcing his expression into stern disappointment, rather than annoyance.  
  
Kurt glared at him. “So you fixate like this with all of your students, but I’m the only one you thought to call in about it?”  
  
Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second to ward off the frustration. Adding to his irritation was the fact that, in addition to Kurt’s stubborn resistance to the idea of Will’s advice maybe being helpful, there was something obviously wrong with the cut of Will’s jeans along the inseam – they were putting pressure in a place he certainly didn’t need it, and the gentle rub with each motion was becoming an annoying distraction.  
  
Before Will could gather his thoughts enough to say something that would get Kurt to cool down and stop attacking him for some imagined slight, Kurt was continuing, “Why are you actually talking to me about this, Mr. Schue? If it’s another masculinity thing, I can assure you that I’ve had enough of those conversations to last a lifetime. The same goes for discussions about trust in a relationship.”  
  
Will sighed and brought his free hand up to rub at his temple. “I heard something worrying and wanted to be sure that you were alright,” he explained for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re turning this into something it’s not.” And, no, Will was privately willing to admit that Kurt wasn’t the most… traditionally masculine of his students, but that wasn’t the problem, or the reason Will was concerned. The thing was, there was something almost fragile about Kurt, something that made Will remember, even now, finding him shaking in the hallways the previous fall. It had been a year, but he could still practically feel Kurt trembling under his arm, tucked against his side, when he thought back to it. And now there was this new risk, one that he’d never thought to link with Kurt in his mind before. Now, thinking about it sent a jolt through him every time.  
  
“I just want to help you,” Will continued more gently. He rested his free hand on the back of Kurt’s chair and bent down a bit so he wasn’t towering over him. Looking him in the eye, he continued, “It’s not about anything being wrong with anyone, it’s just that I know what Artie said might have put you in a dangerous position. You need to know that you can trust me.” He skimmed his thumb over Kurt’s now-bared collarbone again to drive the point home.  
  
Kurt had to arch his neck slightly to meet Will’s eyes properly, and it looked for a second like he was going to respond, until he closed his mouth again. His eyes flitted to where Will’s arms were bracketed around him, brow suddenly furrowing. Will rubbed his thumb into his skin again in a wide, comforting sweep from the base of his throat to just under his loose collar and back. “Mr. Schue,” he said slowly, his pulse jumping again, “what are you doing?”  
  
Will was struck once again, and impressed, by how much Kurt had calmed down in the last two years. Despite the fact that he’d finally stopped pursuing an argument, though, Kurt was wide-eyed and tense. Will frowned at that, instead of answering, and gave up on the tiny soothing motions in favor of rubbing his hand affectionately over Kurt’s shoulder to his neck and back. He’d yet to meet someone who wasn’t calmed by a neck massage, even if he couldn’t actually go as far as a real one with a student. Well, Emma wasn’t calmed by them, he corrected himself. She always became uncomfortable and tense with the contact. Will sighed and kneaded more firmly at the tightening muscle between Kurt’s shoulder and neck. It really was torture, some days, to live with the woman he’d loved for years and be unable to touch her and make her feel good.  
  
Kurt was still staring up at him, even as he gave a tiny jerk away from Will’s hand. Will frowned, realizing that he’d probably dug in a little too hard, and stopped the not-quite-massage to prevent any more accidental discomfort, leaving his hand resting where it was on Kurt’s neck, fingers curving around to rest in the short hairs at the base of his head. Kurt was still breathing fast and shallow.  
  
Will realized that he’d been sidetracked from answering Kurt’s question when Kurt shakily said, again, “Mr. Schue…”  
  
Will blinked, torn out of a half-conscious musing about the unexpected softness of Kurt’s hair, where he could feel it – maybe he didn’t use as much product as Will assumed? “Hm?” he said, then huffed a rueful laugh, vaguely embarrassed to admit, “Sorry, I blanked on your question.”  
  
“I asked what you were doing.” Kurt’s voice was much quieter than usual and there was an odd edge to it, his eyes wide and fixed on Will’s face above him. Will’s hand could feel the vibrations in Kurt’s throat when he spoke.  
  
“I’m making sure you’re alright.” Will was surprised that Kurt hadn’t picked up the point yet – they’d been talking about how concerned Will was for him for a very long time.  
  
Kurt leaned a little to the side, and since it seemed to be towards Will’s hand on the back of the chair, Will shifted it closer so that his forearm was brushing the side of Kurt’s neck, supportively close. Kurt’s lips were pressed even tighter together now, but he parted them a few times in abortive efforts to speak, blood rushing in and suffusing them a deeper red with each loss of tension. Finally, he managed, “I don’t think I am, Mr. Schue. ‘Alright,’ I mean.”  
  
Will inhaled sharply and curved his hand so that he was cupping Kurt’s neck more securely, supportively. He could feel Kurt’s pulse jumping against his palm. “Do you think you can tell me about it?”  
  
“I’m not comfortable right now,” Kurt said, tensing his shoulders with obvious bravado. “I – No one is harassing me, but I want you to let go of me. Now. I need to leave now.”  
  
Apparently it was Will’s turn to stare. Kurt’s desire to retreat from the situation struck him as sudden and a little worrying. Had Will struck too close to home, and was Kurt trying to avoid spilling everything now? Will abruptly remembered how Kurt had tried to deflect the conversation away from Blaine for so long, and he couldn’t help moving closer in his worry. It all made sense – the deflection and the way Kurt had become increasingly tense, as if inching closer every second to revealing something. That had to be it. “Kurt, you know you can tell me anything,” he said seriously. He just hoped that he sounded calm and reassuring even though his mind was full of horrifying images again, of Kurt fighting back tears in the aftermath of something horrible, ineffectually trying to cover his pale skin with whatever scattered clothing he could gather. God, he realized, Kurt would be feeling so _alone_.  
  
“And what I’m telling you now is that I want to _leave_.” Kurt sounded strained and was trying to shrink back away from him, but Will kept him from going far with the hand braced on his neck. He wasn’t about to let Kurt get away when he had finally gotten so close.  
  
“You know you can trust me with anything,” Will persisted. He kept the pressure of his hand firm, but gentle. His palm was starting to feel overly warm and slick with sweat, but Kurt’s eyes were making little darts away towards the door, and Will knew that the slight discomfort was necessary. If he lost Kurt now, it would be months before he’d be able to get him to open up again, and who knew what else could happen by then? “Kurt,” he said kindly, leaning closer, “talk to me.”  
  
“I am!” Kurt’s voice was hoarse and raised almost to a shout, his body so tense under Will that he was nearly quivering with it. “You just aren’t listening!”  
  
Will tried to push through his disappointment. “Kurt,” he started to say again, but Kurt was suddenly pushing himself up and trying to duck under Will’s arm. “Kurt!” Will chided, shocked. He had to move his body to block off Kurt’s attempt at retreating, and when it looked for a split-second like Kurt was going to break to the other side, Will grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back down.  
  
Breathing hard, himself, from the sudden adrenaline and from the effort of holding Kurt down, Will was almost surprised by how easy it was to manhandle him back into the chair. He’d gone down so easily where Will pushed him – the fact that Kurt’s position put him at a disadvantage probably added to it, Will vaguely acknowledged, but the whole thing went along with his fears. If Blaine found it half as easy as Will had to move Kurt however he wanted him…  
  
Kurt’s entire body was shaking under Will’s hands. Will had to focus on keeping him in place for the moment, though, rather than calming him down, because he kept trying to struggle to stand, no matter how firmly he was forced back down each time. “Mr. Schuester, let me go,” Kurt kept saying, growing shrill, ignoring Will’s interjections of “Kurt, you need to – stop that, it’s not – calm down!”  
  
It took what felt like minutes for Kurt to give up and stay down under Will’s hold, and even then his muscles kept trembling and his wide eyes stared up at Will as he tried to shrink back. Since Will’s own muscles were protesting the tight – but still clearly necessary – clutch, Will loosened his grip just a little at that, although his fingers were still digging in hard enough to press visible divots into Kurt’s shoulders.  
  
When Kurt finally spoke again, his lips, bitten red and almost swollen, were quivering distractingly and his voice had taken on the high, strained tone Will remembered from inappropriate outbursts of authority-questioning and from visits to the principal’s office. “Mr. Schuester, what do you _want_?”  
  
Will hoped the way his breath was coming faster from the exertion wasn’t noticeable, although the adrenaline was still making everything bright and sharp. The effort of keeping Kurt from bolting was beginning to make his wrists ache, but the pleading note in Kurt’s voice reminded Will why he needed to keep holding on, even as his heart pounded heavily, blood rushing in his ears loud enough to drown out Kurt’s voice.  
  
If things had gone wrong, it wouldn’t matter how much Kurt begged or became hysterical, Will reminded himself; nor would how much Blaine meant well or cared about Kurt. Sometimes, men could just be pushed past their limits and beyond their own better sense – Will couldn’t help but think about what that could mean for Kurt, if it would mean him being left vulnerable and tear-streaked, quivering and staring in helpless betrayal as his boyfriend held him in place and took what he’d been denied.  
  
“I just want you to tell me what happened,” Will said urgently. He made sure to make eye contact, willing Kurt to trust him. “You’re a good kid, and I owe it to you and your dad to watch out for you.” His heart was still thumping against his ribcage from the exertion of keeping Kurt down, making his blood surge in a way that made him dizzy. God, even that – Blaine was fit and young and wouldn’t have even that working against him; like Will, he was muscular enough to hold Kurt down if he got pushed that far. That part would be so easy, and all it would take from there would be to pry Kurt’s thighs open just a little more with his knees, or hold him in place with a single hand on the back of his head, and there would be nothing Kurt could do about it, no way he could push Will away if he hadn’t already…  
  
Will stopped, his heart thudding.  
  
Kurt was visibly clenching his jaw, although his eyes were still wide and he looked seconds from tears – although there was no reason for that, it had to be stress because nothing was _actually_ wrong about the situation, nothing had happened except for Will acting like a good teacher. “I told you,” Kurt said, his voice carrying an edge of desperation, “nothing happened. Blaine didn’t – we love each other.”  
  
Kurt looked so distraught – unreasonably, obviously, there was no reason for him to be that upset – that Will had to give – well, force, but there was no reason for that, either – a smile and move to chuck him under the chin in a playful, utterly friendly gesture. “Hey,” he said gently, trying to ignore Kurt’s choked gasp – surprise, probably – from the affectionate move. He did move his hand away quickly, though, because it wasn’t as if he wanted to make Kurt uncomfortable, seeing as that would be completely counterproductive.  
  
“I’m not aiming to get him in trouble,” he assured Kurt. The smile still felt strained, but he made himself push through to resolve things, because that was what he’d called Kurt in for, right? He had to do that, then he could send Kurt out. “I just want to know that you’re okay. If you don’t want me to bring in Figgins, I can have a talk with him. You know, man to man.” He smiled a little wider to lighten it, although it didn’t seem to help Kurt’s anxiety.  
  
Kurt was breathing more shallowly than before, and kept staring up at Will, his mouth gone slack. Just as Will was frowning in concern and trying to think of what to say, Kurt finally said, “No.”  
  
Will blinked. “What?”  
  
“No,” Kurt repeated. His lips parted, closed, parted again, trembling. He took a breath. “No, you don’t need to talk to him. I don’t want you to. I’ll – there’s nothing wrong, but if there was, I would want to handle it by myself.” Kurt’s eyes were wide and pleading and he forced out, with obvious effort, “This is – we can deal with this ourselves. Okay?”  
  
Will was suddenly ready for the conversation to be over – he’d done what he could and it was out of his hands now – but he had to make one last pitch. “You’ll tell someone if things get bad, though, right?” he tried, giving Kurt’s shoulders a quick, half-hearted squeeze. “You can’t just let something go because you’re close to someone.”  
  
Kurt nodded, agreeing faster than Will had ever seen from him before.  
  
Will gave a tight nod in return. Whatever happened, he’d done the best he could by his student. “You can go now,” he said, pulling his hands back to his sides and taking a too-fast step back. “Just – remember what I said.”  
  
Kurt’s eyes were wide again as he nodded a second time and was standing up almost before Will had stopped talking. There was something uncharacteristically ungraceful about the way Kurt lurched across the room and fumbled with the doorknob, but he managed to get it open before Will could even start to react.  
  
“No, it’s-” Kurt cut off, his lips tight as he backed around the door and out of the room. “I got it. I’m going now.”  
  
Will managed to give him a half-smile. “Have a good afternoon, Kurt.” He remembered a snatch of what Kurt had said earlier, and swallowed before adding, “Enjoy the mall.”  
  
Kurt nodded stiffly, not appearing to fully hear him, and disappeared from sight. His footsteps sounded fast on the linoleum as he headed out of the school.  
  
Will took a deep breath and tried to let the lingering tightness in his chest go. He wiped his hands absently on his pants. He’d done what he could.


End file.
